


Developmental Graveyard

by toxicmew



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, i love you so much, this is extremely short but i wrote it in like thirty minutes so forgive me, tobi you unintentional troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicmew/pseuds/toxicmew
Summary: “Where did you even  think  of this?”“I saw a possum.”“...a possum.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> For [ Sumigakure's ](http://sumigakure.tumblr.com) 2016 Halloween Event [ prompt 5 ](http://sumigakure.tumblr.com/post/151735185166/sumigakure-halloween-event)

**Developmental Graveyard**

Red eyes glinted in the setting sun, contrasting sharply against the pale visage they were set upon. Senju Tobirama appeared to be a stern, no nonsense type of man. The right hand to the Shodaime Hokage and the reputed future Nidaime should his brother ever deem to retire.He was famed for his skill in Suiton jutsu, able to draw a lake’s worth of water with a single handsign and manipulate it as easily as a chakra string. He was the second strongest shinobi the Senju clan had ever produced, only shadowed by his brother, a man designated as the God of Shinobi by most of the populace.

Which only made the following events more mystifying and less believable by anyone hearing the story second hand.

“Ichi, Ni, San, Yon, Go - you five are to protect the quadrant before you. Roku, Nana, Hachi, Kyū, Jū - you five are to use any means possible to infiltrate and secure the flag within their designated area. You are to return it to me before the first team can retrieve it. Go.”

With a rattling of bones, ten animated skeletons departed to do their summoner’s bidding. Tobirama could not resist an arrogant smirk, pride flooding through his veins as he looked upon the results of his long hours agonizing over research notes. He made a mental note to thank Mito for the access to the Uzumaki sealing scrolls, as it had helped him immensely. As had the notes on the Shiki Fūjin, he remembered absently.

A crunch of breaking bones drew his attention and he sighed in contentment as he watched Hachi cave in San’s skull with a large rock.

The development of his Edo Tensei jutsu was going smoothly. He could animate the skeletons before him and have them do his bidding with high success. Soon he would move on to fully fleshed corpses, and then his ultimate goal: retrieving lost souls while also animating a body for them to use.

He made another mental note to overlook the Shiki Fūjin scroll once again - there had been a paragraph about soul retrieval that referenced another scroll he had yet to get his hands on.

Before the white haired man could delve deeper into his thoughts, there was a choking gasp from the treeline. Turning curiously, Tobirama let out an exasperated sigh at the sight of his brother’s gaping, incredulous face.

“Brother--”

“ _What the hell is this_?!” Hashirama’s screech interrupted.

Tobirama frowned faintly, following his sibling’s eyes to the ten skeletons now wrestling around within the muddy pit. There was a pole rising in the center, proudly bearing a small flag decorated with Konohagakure’s stylized leaf. Tobirama was rather proud of its design, seeing as he himself had created it. Turning back to a stock still Hashirama, Tobirama let a small shrug escape him. “Jutsu development.”

“You- I thought you were working on a clone technique!” The brunet stuttered. He seemed incapable of looking away from the skeletons, flinching as Hachi once again brought his rock to bare and snapped several of Ichi’s spinal disks.

“I completed the Kage Bunshin last week. I’ve moved on to a teleportation technique. The Hiraishin would be a respectable name, no?”

“This does _not_ look like teleportation.” The Shodaime deadpanned.

Tobirama sent him a scathing glare. “Of course it doesn’t, this is the beginning stages of Edo Tensei.”

The brunet was gaping, again. As if he couldn’t believe the words reaching his ears. “Edo...you’re making a reincarnation jutsu?! You- Tobirama are you _nuts_? Don’t mess with the dead!”

Tobirama scoffed. “It’s not _reincarnation_. It’s more like a soul summoning.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Well, obviously it is, since you’re so caught up on the reanimating the dead portion.”

“Where did you even _think_ of this?”

“I saw a possum.”

“...a possum.”

“It was playing dead when a canine attacked it. Then I watched it walk away and thought ‘what if I could come back from the dead?’, then it lead onto ‘what if _anyone_ could come back from the dead?’, then I asked Mito for some of the Uzumaki scrolls. Now I’m here.” Now his brother was gaping again. Tobirama felt his left eye twitch in annoyance. “What?”

Suddenly Hashirama through up his hands - as if _he_ was the one that was exasperated - and turned his back. Tobirama heard faint muttering as the man walked away, “A _possum_ . A resurrection technique from a _possum_.”

Tobirama turned his back as well, just as a stumbling Hachi came sprinting towards him. The skeleton’s right eye socket was vividly cracked open, his lower jaw missing along with several ribs and his right foot, but he had in hand the pole he was sent to retrieve. Glancing over the mud-coated skeleton the white haired man noted that of the ten skeletons only two were moving (once he discounted Hachi). Yon was on her knees, fingers struggling against Kyū’s grip as the standing skeleton had a foot kicking repeatedly against her skull. Tobirama created his third mental note since the beginning of this testing process, acknowledging the increase in flexibility that the lack of muscles and skin allowed.

Accepting the proffered pole from a saluting Hachi, Tobirama called out. “You may all depart now. The exercise is over.”

In a split second there was a squelch of mud as the two wrestling skeletons disassembled. Hachi’s bouncing skull impacted Tobirama’s shin. Sending a fleeting glance down, the Suiton expert shrugged, spinning the pole expertly between his fingers like the bo Tōka frequently assaulted him with during training. He paid no mind to the approaching chakra signature of his brother, nor the two following him. Mito and Madara, it felt like.

Letting out a breath of irritation, Tobirama pulled out a kunai. Red eyes glanced over the experimental fuinjutsu he had etched onto the tag circling it’s handle. A faint shrug and a flash of yellow followed his disappearance.

He appeared two hundred meters away, upside down and drooping from the branches of a towering oak. Raising an eyebrow, Tobirama stared up at the shifting ground and grimaced. “Well, the headaches are still there. As is the coordination problems.”

“I’m _telling_ you, Tobirama’s gone mad!” Hashirama repeated. Mito scowled at her childish husband, wondering if his brother had trapped him within a disorienting genjutsu for his own amusement. It had happened a few weeks passed, and she honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had done so yet again.

“Are you hallucinating?” Madara grunted, almost echoing her thought pattern.

“No! Here, look, see for yourselves.” Hashirama huffed as they approached a parting in the trees. They were at Training Ground 3, if Mito remembered correctly. It was a frequent training location for Tobirama, though he had spent more time in his book-laden apartment than outside during the past month.

When they came to a stop Mito looked out as a bone-strewn mud pit, another skeleton disassembled a few meters away. Hashirama was narrow-eyed, glancing around for the elusive form of his brother while Madara had crossed his arms and was leaning against the trunk of a young pine.

“There doesn’t _seem_ to be a skeleton war going on.” Madara drawled.

Hashirama growled, shooting the Uchiha a glare before starting to shout. “Tobirama! Where the hell did you go?1 Come back here you disrespectful brat! Whose bones are these anyway?!”

Tobirama sent a glance over his shoulder as he reoriented himself, hearing his brother’s shout clearly. What the man lacked in research skill, he sure made up for in lung capacity. Grimacing, the younger man picked up his dropped kunai and pulled out a jar of ink and a brush. Making a few alterations, the Senju disappeared in yet another flash.

* * *

**_Fin_ **

* * *

 


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